


Hopeless

by Nevermore_red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boats, Emergency Room Romance, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Nurse!Sansa, Theonsa - Freeform, Vague Mentions of Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Sansa comes back home after seven years of being gone. Theon is there, as he always was, but he's not the same arrogant boy she remembers.





	Hopeless

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The thing Sansa remembered most about Theon Greyjoy was his arrogant attitude. Everything about him screamed arrogance. His smile, his speech, the way he walked and held himself, the way he acted. He was sort of an asshole. Actually, scratch that, he _was_ an asshole. But he was her brother’s best friend, had been ever since they met in preschool, and lived more at their house than at his own. He and Sansa had never been particularly close. He was four years older than her, busy chasing all the girls and in general being a douche to pay too much attention to her, and Sansa had always been mildly annoyed by him. Robb defended him endlessly, but Sansa never cared very much to hear him out.

It had been nearly seven years since the last time she saw Theon in person. She’d moved away after high school to the big city for university and adventure and got far more than she’d bargained for in Joffrey Baratheon. But she had gotten her nursing degree while she was there, so it wasn’t all for nothing. And now, pushing open the door to the room in the ER at Winterfell General to see her next patient, she realized some things never changed.

“Of all the emergency rooms in all the hospitals in this city.” Theon drawled teasingly from his perch on the gurney. Sansa fought an eye roll as she shook her head, taking in the bloodied towel he had wrapped around his left hand.

“There’s only one hospital in Winterfell, Theon.” She reminded him. “And I’m the only nurse on duty. The perks of working in a small hospital.”

“Just my luck then.” He winked at her, that crooked smile in place. He seemed every bit as arrogant as he had as a kid, even though he was almost thirty now. But there was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something softer about him.

He did look different. Less scrawny and more muscled, although he could never be considered a big man. His hair was still curly, a little longer than she remembered it. The scruff on his face also made his jawline look ridiculously sharp, which she didn’t remember at all, or those amazing cheekbones. His eyes were the same. Ocean eyes, she’d always thought. Like what the mer-people in her childhood dreams would have.

Huh. Apparently in the last seven years Theon Greyjoy had gotten sexy. Which was a completely unprofessional thought, so she quickly pushed it away.

“Robb told me you’d moved back.” He went on as she attached the blood pressure cuff to his arm and the O2 monitor to his right finger. She hit the button on the monitor to inflate the cuff and then tugged the computer screen around so she could bring up his chart.

“Almost a month ago now.” She told him. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Your brothers always busy with Jeyne these days.”

“Mhm.” She agreed. “What happened to your hand?”

“Shot a crossbow and didn’t move my thumb out of the way.” He shook his head with a laugh. “Stupid mistake.”

“I thought you always said crossbows were for losers.”

“And I stick by that!” he declared. “Takes all the skill out of the equation. A real archer can shoot with a compound just fine.”

“Then why do you have a crossbow?” she asked with a raised brow after typing in his vitals and what happened to his hand.

“I don’t. It’s Robb’s, actually. I stole it while he was at work.” Sansa huffed a laugh and Theon beamed unrepentantly.

“What would you say your pain level is? 1-10. 10 being the worst pain ever.”

“’Bout a five, I’d say. Unless you touch it, then it’s probably a seven.”

Sansa grabbed a pair of gloves and put them on. “Let’s see the damage then.” She reached for his hand and he slowly raised it to her. As careful as she could, she pulled the soiled towel away and put in on the bed beside him.

“Ouch.” She tsked. “Doesn’t look like it hit the bone, though, so that’s good. You’ll just need some cleaning up and stitches.”

“How ‘bout some pain meds before that happens?” he eyed her nervously. “You aren’t one of those sadistic nurses who enjoy their patients suffering, are you?”

“No.” she laughed. “I’ll do the cleaning, and I’ll be very gentle, but Dr. Luwin will do the stitches. And he’ll give you a numbing shot first.”

“That old man still working here?” Theon groused.

“Yes.” Sansa said primly, snapping her gloves off. “And that old man will be the one wielding the needles, so I’d be nice if I were you.”

Theon huffed, then looked at her with a pout, which she hated to admit was really rather attractive. “Can’t you do it? I bet you’d be nicer about it. Luwin hates me.”

“Who says I don’t hate you?” she teasingly asked. A mischievous smile spread across Theon’s face.

“Come on, now.” He cajoled. “Doesn’t every girl harbor a secret crush on her older brothers best friend?”

Sansa scrunched her nose up in a laugh. “Sorry, but you annoyed me more than anything. Besides, you were always too busy chasing skirts. That still true, Greyjoy?”

“No, ma’am.” He grinned. “These days the skirts chase me.”

At that, Sansa laughed before assuring him she’d be right back with the wound care kit. She was still smiling when she reached the supply closet and had to firmly remind herself that she shouldn’t be finding anything about Theon Greyjoy endearing or adorable. Men like Theon would break her heart. That’s what her mother always said.

Then again, her mother had approved of Joffrey at first, so what did she know?

-

The thing of it was, Sansa hadn’t really been comfortable around men since the horror show with Joffrey. They made her nervous, especially when they would hit on her or flirt with her. But there was something in Theon’s casual flirtations that put her at ease. There was no pressure behind any of it, no hint of manipulation or forcefulness. Somehow it still seemed sincere, though, but it was only teasing. He never gave her an indication of wanting more.

It was a week after she’d seen him in the emergency room that he showed up at her front door. When she’d moved back to Winterfell, she’d bought a small little cottage on the outskirts of town. She didn’t even know how Theon knew where it was, but it probably had something to do with Robb or Arya.

He had a box of pizza in his hands and Sansa realized how hungry she was, so she let him in without much questioning. They ate dinner over easy banter before turning on Netflix. They picked a series neither had watched and it all somehow became a weekly thing on her nights off. Theon would show up with some form of food, and they’d watch another episode together.

And there was always the teasing. He would say the most cheesy, ridiculous things, and Sansa should roll her eyes and let him know how stupid they were, but instead they made her laugh and giggle and she tried to give as good as she got, but Theon was so much better at it than her.

She also realized there was something different about him. Something a little lost, a little broken. It didn’t come out often, but she saw the signs, knew them intimately herself. They’d be sitting on the sofa together and she’d make too sudden of a movement to stand or reach for the remote, and he would cringe away like he was expecting a blow. It was also in the way she noticed he kept his head down or if they went out on the weekends with Robb and the gang and there was a large crowd, how he sort of made himself smaller.

Sansa didn’t ask. He could tell her in his own time, just like she would tell him in hers. She figured that’s why they got on so well, silently recognizing the others trauma and giving their unspoken understanding.

Now it was the one of the only months in the North that made it warm enough to swim. Her parents opened their pool, like they did every year, and threw a family cookout. Theon, as normal, was there as well. He was like a fish, soaking up the water and swimming like he was born to do it. Sansa was sitting on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling over and feet in the water. She wore her bathing suit, but kept her gauzy white coverup on, not quite comfortable enough to show the scars on her back in front of her parents. She watched in amusement as Theon hoisted Rickon onto his shoulders and Robb did the same with Bran for a chicken fight. It didn’t last long, Theon and Rickon quickly winning the battle. Sansa cheered, setting her drink to the side so she could clap. Theon and Rickon, still on Theon’s shoulders, looked over at her with the cutest set of boyish grins she’d ever seen. Then Theon ducked underwater, taking Rickon with him, before shooting up and tossing a squealing Rickon up into the air. Once he landed with a huge splash, Theon swam over to where she was, grabbing his own drink that he’d sat next to her.

“Congratulations.” She knocked her plastic cup against his before taking a drink. “That makes you two undefeated.”

“I’ll never lose the title.” Theon preened loud enough so Robb would hear.

“Shut up.” Robb shouted from across the pool. “It’s only because Rickon is lighter than Bran.”

“Whatever, loser.” Theon shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the pool next to Sansa’s legs. His chest brushed against her calves and gave her goosebumps. “Don’t be jealous.”

“Fine, hot shot, grab Sansa and I’ll grab Jeyne. They’re more evenly matched.”

Theon looked up at Sansa expectantly.

“Oh, no.” she shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of your pissing contest.”

“Not a pissing contest.” Theon argued. “Robb just likes being beat. Ask Jeyne.” He winked and Sansa made a gagging noise.

“Gross.” She nudged him in the abdomen with her toes, her stomach flipping when he grabbed her foot under the water.

“Come on, Red.” He squeezed her foot. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been dying for the excuse to mess up Jeyne’s perfect hair.”

“Her hair is pretty perfect.” She looked across the pool, where Jeyne was sitting with their mom talking. “But I’m not a petty person. And my hair is prettier anyway.”

“Agreed.” He grinned. “But I’ve got a thing for redheads.” He winked and Sansa shook her head with a giggle and a blush that was thankfully hidden by the fact she’d been out in the sun all day.

“Sansa!” Robb yelled; swimming closer to where they were. “Come on. Don’t be a prissy about it.”

“I’m game if Jeyne is.” She shrugged, knowing full well that Jeyne would never agree and therefore putting the blame on her and not Sansa.

Thankfully, her plan worked so she didn’t have to. Theon drug himself out of the pool to sit next to her. The legs of his swim trunks rode up on his thighs and before he could pull them back down, Sansa saw a large scar high on his inner thigh. He saw her see it, quickly tugging his shorts back down and looking ashamed, glancing away from her and to the water.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked gently. He was quiet for a long time, then he shrugged, still not looking at her.

“I got mixed up with this guy. We, I don’t think I’d call it dating exactly, but...he wasn’t a nice guy.”

Sansa swallowed against a lump forming in her throat at the utterly broken tone he spoke in, like he wasn’t Theon anymore. She reached across and put her hand over his on his thigh. He looked at their hands, but still wouldn’t look up at her.

“There’s some pretty awful people in the world.” She said softly. “Thank the gods we were strong enough to survive them.”

Her use of the word we didn’t escape his notice. It’s what finally brought his gaze back up to hers, a question in those ocean depths. She gave him a sad smile.

“He wasn’t a nice guy, either.”

Theon blinked, then nodded, his hand turning under hers to give her fingers a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” she nudged his shoulder with hers. He smiled, still a little sad looking, then looked over at where Robb was coaxing Jeyne to feed him from his lap.

“Don’t tell Robb.” He said quietly. “No one…no one knows.”

The fact that he trusted her with this made her eyes sting. “I won’t. I promise, Theon.”

At his name, his eyes snapped back to hers. He searched her face for a moment and Sansa’s heart picked up speed. Then a grin broke his face, a chuckle bubbling up from his chest.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Your face is all pink from the sun.” he let go of her hand and tapped her nose. “Brings out the freckles on your nose.”

“Hush.” She swatted at him. “Not all of us were born for the sun and water.”

“You haven’t even tried the water.” He pointed out. “You never do.”

“Like I said.” She shrugged.

“Come boating with me.” He said suddenly and Sansa looked at him in surprise. “I mean it. I’ve got a little 15ft Lightening Bug electric boat docked at White Harbor. We should go. It’s fun.”

His enthusiasm was catching, and though she didn’t really care for the water all that much, she found herself agreeing. And a few weeks later, on her next weekend off, they drove up to White Harbor. He was right, the boat was small, just big enough for two people, but it was very pretty and well taken care of. Wooden with a white hull, and a green bench seat. A kraken was painted on the back.

Stepping down into the boat, Theon took her bag from her and sat it in the floor before reaching up with both hands to help her step down. The boat rocked beneath her and she reached out in shock to grab onto his shoulders. He laughed, hands gripping her waist firmly.

“Easy.” He gave her waist a squeeze. “Don’t tip us over. The waters freezing here.” He glanced down at her clothes, which were a pair of navy-blue cropped jeans, brown boat shoes, and a white button up blouse. He smirked, head cocking to the side. “Though I wouldn’t mind the wet t shirt show.”

Sansa flushed, pulling her hands from his shoulders before giving him a gentle shove. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m amazing.” He dropped into the seat, patting the spot next to him like there was anywhere else for her to sit. “And you know it.”

“I’ll reserve my judgement until after this trip, barring you don’t drown us.”

“I’d never do that.” He shoved her shoulder. “I’m a Greyjoy. We don’t drown. What is dead may never die, and all that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She sat back, leaning into the cushioned seatback. “Let the voyage begin.”

“Aye aye, matey.” He winked at her, then he turned the key and it was then Sansa realized something.

“Where’s the steering wheel?” she asked nervously.

“There is none.” He laughed. “This lever controls the speed.” He tapped a silver lever on the inside of the boat. “And this controls the direction.” He leaned back to show a bigger lever that came from the back of the boat.

Sansa had a better time than she’d thought she would. The water was peaceful, the boat comfortable, and Theon…well, Theon was beautiful out here with the salt air blowing through his hair and the sun making his eyes glow. He was telling her some story of Asha leaving him out in the middle of the sea when he was a boy, joy etched into his smile and a peacefulness about him that made her ache. Generally speaking, Sansa was a terrific listener, but she found she hadn’t heard a lot of what he said, too distracted by looking at him. He must have been finished with his story, however, because his lips weren’t moving anymore, tugging up in an amused grin, his head tilting to the side. Lifting her eyes from his mouth, she found him looking at her with a raised brow.

“You didn’t listen to a damn thing I just said, did you?” he asked, but he didn’t sound mad or offended. He sounded amused and fond and Sansa blushed at having been caught staring.

“You’re mouth.” She said stupidly, then stuttered for a moment. “I mean, when you talk. Your mouth, it’s gorgeous.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn’t think of something to make it better. Besides, his mouth was very gorgeous. She thought he’d make fun of her, or make a joke out of it, she was sort of counting on it actually, but instead he just stared at her with this look of awe in his expression.

“You think my mouth is gorgeous?” he asked shyly and Sansa suddenly felt less nervous herself.

“Yes.” She said simply. “I do. Don’t play humble. You’re very aware of how attractive you are.”

“ _I_ may be aware of that.” He said. “But I wasn't aware that you thought that.”

“I’m not blind, Theon.” She rolled her eyes.

“Do you think Robb is attractive?” he asked with raised brows.

“No.” she scrunched her nose. “Ew. That’s my brother.”

“But, objectively, he’s an attractive man.” He pointed out. “You just don’t think so because he’s your brother. But you think I am.”

“Well,” she hedged, looking for something to say. “Yes. Of course I do.”

“Of course you do, what?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Sansa huffed, but decided to indulge him. Leaning in towards him, reaching out to place one hand just beneath the v neck of his t shirt. Licking her lips, she made sure he was looking at her. She could see his throat work around a swallow. She bit back a smirk of her own and met his gaze.

“I find you completely and utterly attractive, Theon Greyjoy.”

“Oh.” His voice came out as a breath, then he cleared his throat. “Don’t…don’t play, Sansa. After Rams…after that, I can’t imagine anyone saying that truthfully.”

Sansa let her teasing grin fade. She slipped her hand up and around his neck, her thumb coming up to rub gently at his jawline.

“I’m not playing, Theon. I wouldn’t…I know how that feels.” She said truthfully. A hand came up, a warm rough palm cupping her cheek. She leaned into the touch.

“You’re beautiful, Sansa.” He said softly. “You’ve always been beautiful, but now…gods, woman. You’re stunning.”  

Sansa didn’t know what to say to that. She thought probably there was nothing to say to it. Instead, she gave him a small smile, and then leaned in. He sucked in a surprised breath at the motion and Sansa stopped a few inches away, not wanting to push, not wanting to make him go somewhere he wasn’t ready. But then his chin tilted to the side and he closed the small gap between them.

His lips were warm and soft and when she let her own part a second later on a breath, he tasted like sea salt and hope. She knew in that moment she’d never get enough of kissing him.

 -

Sitting at the nurses station, Sansa was typing up some reports that needed finished. It had been a rather slow day, and her mind had been wandering. A lot. She thought of the sea and Theon and how their kiss had gotten a little out of hand and they’d almost tipped the boat over. She thought of how he’d taken her back to his place, which wasn’t much but was still nice, and how they’d slowly worked up to making love. It had been sweet and sensual and toe curling good. She’d left him a few hours later with a soft kiss and his promise to call her soon.

That had been two days ago. He hadn’t called, exactly. They’d text but neither mentioned that night. Sansa was a little confused on where they stood and what they were. She knew what she was feeling and what she wanted them to be (together. Preferably forever.) but didn’t know if he was there yet. Or if he even wanted to get there.

The phone beeped with a call from the registration desk out front. Sansa picked it up and Brienne’s voice told her there was a patient checking in with chest pains and he was being put in room four. Sansa quickly closed out the computer and grabbed her stuff. She was at the door to the room when it dawned on her that chest pains were usually admitted to one of the triage rooms, which were the first two rooms. That were currently empty. Confused, Sansa pushed the door open only to pull up short just inside, her stomach dropping.

“Theon?” she asked, quickly rushing to his side where he sat on the gurney. “Are you alright? Any shortness of breath or dizziness? What sort of chest pain is it? Sharp or crushing? How long has it been going on?” she fumbled with her stethoscope before remembering she needed to get his blood pressure first.

“Sansa,” Theon grabbed her hand in his, steadying her. “Sansa, calm down. I'm fine.”

Taking a breath, Sansa really looked at him. He looked fine, normal. He wasn’t ashen or sweaty and when she used the fingers of the hand he was holding to press into his wrist, his heart beat was steady.

“You’re…I thought you were having chest pains?”

A grin, a little guilty and a little shy, tugged at his lips. “I am.” He lifted their joined hands and put them on his chest, right over his heart. “It aches, right here. Mostly when I think of you. Or when I look at you. Or when I think about looking at you.”

Sansa laughed, her anxiety draining from her, her own heart picking up its pace and a blush blooming out in her cheeks.

“How are you here?” she asked with a grin. “Seriously, your insurance is going to kill you.”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Brienne helped me out. And Dr. Luwin, if you can believe it.”

“Helped you out to pretend to be having a heart attack so you can give me one?” she chided with a raised brow.

“No.” he brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles while holding her gaze with his own. “I remember you as a girl, and your love of songs and stories about romance. I know that you haven’t gotten a whole lot of that, if any, so I thought…I’m trying to make a romantic gesture here.”

“You’re doing great.” She assured him, eyes a little watery. Theon let out a relieved sigh.

“Good. Because the other night was great. Fucking fantastic. And I want more of that. And more of all the other stuff to. 'Cause I’m pretty sure I love you, Sansa.”

Sansa laughed, the tears in her eyes spilling over in her joy. “Well, that works out perfectly.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Because I love you too, Theon.”


End file.
